Every Part Of Me
by Lou-deadfroggy
Summary: With Mrs Hudson away John is resigned to a Christmas alone with Sherlock who he isn't sure knows about Christmas. That is until he meets Martin Crieff and joins the three Holmes brothers as they try to stop the murder of one of their own.
1. An Unexpected Invitation

**Every Part Of Me**

**Chapter One**

**An Unexpected Invitation**

Pre- Riechenbach, John expects to spend Christmas alone this year until he gets an unexpected invitation.

… …

"Oh, John dear, I was wondering if you could help me with this," Mrs Hudson asked, frowning at his laptop she had borrowed. "I need to buy a train ticket to Edinburgh for the twentieth but it's not letting me. I don't understand all this new technology." He smiled and took the computer off of her.

"Going up for the whole of Christmas then?"

"Oh yes, I'm staying with Hillary. You boys will be on your own I'm afraid. You'll manage with the turkey and whatnot, won't you?" John held in a sigh. Christmas with Sherlock.

"Of course. We'll be fine, Mrs Hudson. There, your ticket's ordered. I'll go and print it off."

"Oh thank you, dear."

John trudged up the stairs slowly, a shopping bag in each hand. He was wrapped up in his coat and scarf against the chill outside; thankful he'd made it to the shops and back without slipping over on the ice. He dumped the bags on the kitchen table, amazed to find enough space for once. Just as he had removed his scarf the phone rang. John sighed, picking it up.

"Hello?" he asked cheerfully. There was a pause at the other end.

"John Watson?" a girl's voice asked. John had a sinking feeling it was something to do with Sherlock.

"Speaking. Who is this?"

"Would you be so kind as to give a message to Sherlock Holmes?" He cast a quick glance at the caller ID but of course it was withheld.

"Tell him Martin is overjoyed he will be spending Christmas day with you two at our house." The line went dead before John could answer.

"The phone rang," Sherlock told him unhelpfully from the lounge. John sighed.

"It was for you. Some girl's voice. Martin is overjoyed to spend Christmas day with us two at your house. She said you two at our house so I don't know who she meant or where. Who's Martin and who was she?" Sherlock of course didn't reply. That would have just been too helpful.

"Sherlock?"

"I have a case." John groaned slightly.

"Sherlock, she only sounded about twelve. Surely you can't have a case about a little girl?" He walked into the lounge where his flatmate was lying on the sofa in his dressing gown.

"Of course not. She's far too interesting to be part of this. No, simple little thing really. I wonder what she'll do though, things can get interesting." John shook his head and went back to unpacking the shopping, knowing he had little hope of being in the same book as Sherlock, let alone on the same page.


	2. Roast Turkey

**Every Part Of Me**

**Chapter Two**

**Roast Turkey**

… …

"Is it, uh, a dog?" Arthur asked brightly. Douglas gave him along look.

"Is something beginning with C that I spied out of the window of an aeroplane several thousand feet up in the air a dog?"

"Well you know it might be, that cloud could look like a dog so then you'd think it was a dog. Am I right?"

"No."

"Oh. Uh, wait I can guess it. Um. Um. I know. Um. Kangaroo?"

"Cloud! It's a cloud, Arthur!" Martin snapped. The younger man beamed.

"Well done, Skipper! I could never have guessed that! My turn!" Arthur was cut short by a shrill ringing.

"Martin, your phone is ringing," Douglas informed him.

"Yes thank you, Douglas, I know that. Hello?"

"Hardly in keeping with regulations, Captain," said Douglas. "Not very good for protocol."

"Douglas be quiet I can't hear who it is!"

"It could be anybody; I'm just saying that whoever it is is breaking regulations about using mobile phones inflight." Martin glared at him, turning away so that he could hear the call.

"He has a point, Skipper," Arthur chimed in.

"Bad time?" the caller asked, soundly faintly amused down the line.

"Not at all, hi! No, it's no problem," answered Martin.

"Not yet at least. Is that a mountain I see looming in front of us? We had better wait for the captain to finish his call before deciding to fly over it."

"Douglas shut up!" The phone let out a muffled giggle at that.

"Your mystery caller finds me funny."

"Yes but I don't! Sorry, what was it you wanted?" Martin had to wait a few seconds for the person at the other end to recover.

"Are you going to your brother's for Christmas day?" the girl's voice asked.

"Uh yes, I think so," answered Martin slowly, trying to remember if he had agreed to go or not. Or if he had even been asked.

"Correct. Eleven-thirty sharp." Martin blinked, trying to keep up with her.

"No wait, I didn't mean you guys. I meant…"

"There will be roast turkey." He paused. "Whilst your … other brother has just purchased a cook from frozen chicken. Clearly he does not understand the finer points in festive cuisine." Martin winced, wondering what he'd tell Simon.

"With stuffing," the girl continued mercilessly. "I was planning to ask Mycroft to bring a bottle of his best brandy for the pudding but if it just us then we might as well not bother."

"No, I mean yes. Of course I'd love to."

"Capital." The line went dead.

"Is there something we should know, Captain?" Douglas asked slowly.

"I don't know what you mean, Douglas. What are you doing for Christmas anyway?" Martin smiled innocently, forgetting that he would have to tell Simon he wasn't going that year.

"Oh Christmas! I'm so excited! I can't wait! I wonder what Father Christmas is going to bring me this year. I left him some homemade cake last year. Mum's asked me not to make it look that much like a mince pie this year. What are you doing, Skip?" Arthur was beaming again, one worrying step away from bring out the red hats and singing carols. Martin shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, just spending it with the family."

"As of now apparently," Douglas muttered. "I wonder, Martin, how often do you see this family of yours?"

"Uh," the younger man frowned. "Well they're very busy. Both of my brothers have very high profile jobs you see and..."

"Yes, we see." Douglas looked away smugly. "Last I heard you only had one brother." Martin winced.

"Um. Well, it's sort of complicated."

"I know, Skip! It's like that show, the one with that guy in it. You know the one about those people!"

"I'm sure Martin knows exactly what you're on about, Arthur but this is a far more riveting drama."

"Thank you, Douglas. I have a step brother and a step sister and two half-brothers and…" He was cut short by Carolyn's voice.

"Why, for goodness sake are the seatbelt signs still on? It's been twenty minutes since we levelled out!"

… …

She put down her mobile, mentally ticking another thing off on her list. The train hurtled through the outskirts of London, exchanging fields for rows of houses. She looked down at her phone when it rang. She pressed the receiver button without speaking.

"Look straight ahead and don't react," a familiar voice said. "I think your stop's coming up, the next one in fact. Now stand up, you wouldn't want to miss it." She cast a look up at the man standing a few feet away in front of the door.

"You're right," she answered with a smile. "How silly of me to forget." She stood up, hoisting her small blue rucksack over her shoulder. She didn't spare a glance at the travel case in the luggage rack above the head of the woman opposite. The train pulled to a stop at Reading, pushing her into the side of a tall man holding a phone.

"Graceful as always," he muttered as they stepped onto the platform. He took her arm and led her down the train towards the exit.

"Your puns are side splitting." He smiled, pulling her closer towards him as he reached out to take her phone. She slipped it into her pocket. "I thought we were being grown up about this."

"Ah but you are eternally youthful."

"You're pathetic."

"That may be, my dear, but I am also the one holding the gun so shall we act as if my humour is not completely wasted on you? Capital." She rolled her eyes to hide the way she flinched from the hard metal object digging in her ribs through her coat.

"If you must pull that, at least do so in a way as not to ruin this."

"Do you have the hat to go with it?" he asked her, still smiling with the confidence guns gave most men.

"My ribs are hurting," she retorted sarcastically, looking away from him at the strangers walking along beside them. For some reason the pressure was removed from her side.

"Sorry," he said bashfully.


	3. A Short Run

**Every Part Of Me**

**Chapter Three**

**A Short Run**

… …

John ran after the tall figure in the long coat once more, using the time where all he had to do was keep up to try and work out what was going on.

Firstly, Mycroft had been at the flat.

"She's not here," the older Holmes brother had said as Mrs Hudson showed him in.

"By that you mean that you were expecting her to be here since she is not there and by her being neither here nor there she is in fact missing which troubles you." Pause. "Why?" Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"I want to know where she is."

"Not here." John had raised his hand to ask who 'she' was and if he could help only for Mycroft to turn around and leave, shouting over his shoulder.

"You had better help me find her." Sherlock had shrugged and donned his scarf.

"I have more interesting things to do. Come along, John."

Secondly, Sherlock had gone straight to Paddington train station with John in tow. After looking around the packed hall for a second they had jumped back in the nearest cab and gone straight to a gallery Lestrade had told them had been burgled. John wasn't quite sure of the link between the man in green overalls and the woman they were chasing through Chinatown but nothing related in any way to Paddington train station.

Three police cars hurtled past them and Sherlock stopped.

"Finally, Lestrade got my message. Taxi." John sighed and got in next to his friend.

"What was Paddington about?" he asked when he had gotten his breath back.

"She didn't come to London, Mycroft missed that. Which means she is either still there or somewhere between there and here."

"Who's she?"

"Someone Mycroft is worried about." That was all Sherlock had expanded on.

… …

Douglas looked at Martin's phone as it began to ring. The pilot was out somewhere, his ancient mobile left sitting on his seat. The caller ID was withheld and after a minute it went to answer phone. Douglas went back to reading his book.

"Damn," he said when the phone rang again, the caller obviously not content with leaving a message. He debated picking it up. On one hand it was an invasion of Martin's privacy. On the other, it was _Martin_'s privacy.

"Hello, Douglas Richardson speaking." There was a lengthy pause.

"Where's Martin?" a girl's voice asked quietly.

"Not here," Douglas replied. "I can take a message if you like."

"Could you tell him I'm not going to be able to make it, that he's got to go to Mycroft immediately? Thanks, I'm…" The voice was cut short by a grisly sounding crunch and the line went dead. Douglas swallowed hard, staring at the phone. He had heard Caitlin's voice before, that didn't sound like Martin's sister. She was too clipped and perfect to be Caitlin.

"I'm off home now; did I leave my jacket in here?" Martin asked, making Douglas jump as he came in the cabin.

"A girl phoned you, she said she wasn't going to make it and that you had to go to Mycroft immediately." Martin stared at his first officer.

"Seriously? You answered my phone and took a message?"

"You may be surprised to learn that I do have some moral values after all, however infrequently they choose to show themselves." The sarcasm, as always was wasted on Martin.

"Thanks, right. Thanks, Douglas. Bye." The ginger pilot grabbed his jacket and phone and was out of the cockpit before Douglas could blink. After a second he got up, the way the phone call had been cut off and Martin's reaction had him worried.

"Martin, is everything alright?"

"Uh, no, probably not. See you." Douglas was left frowning at the door to GERTI.

… …

She didn't flinch when the phone was pulled from her hand.

"I thought we were going to be grown up about this?" She looked away, studying the paving slabs' pattern as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Although I suppose it is a children's story."

"References only really work when the person you're talking to knows what you're on about," she answered.

"I'm sure you will realise eventually."

"You don't know what you're dealing with, who you've…" As they walked he had her arm tucked in his side and bumped her into the wall forcibly.

"Really, I think I do. A quick phone call to a half-witted captain to find the government who doesn't care and the genius, who doesn't understand, is that the best the Holmes' can do?" he laughed in her ear. "It's not good enough."

She straightened her coat as they began walking again, ignoring the tightness in her chest. She wasn't religious but she had a blind faith in some things. After twenty years they weren't going to let her down. She looked up at the sky, letting herself smile minutely at the white lines criss-crossing the blue. She wondered if Sherringford had ever considered what his final acts would do to them. Knowing the man, it was unlikely he would even care. He had tried to divide them up, to tear them all apart. Glancing over at her captor, she couldn't help but fear that he may have succeeded. That they wouldn't come, that they didn't care.


End file.
